The Bossier banner. [volume] (Bellevue, Bossier Parish, La.) 1859-1952, 1887-11-24


underground.
Brindle walked slowly along, pausing
here and there as some particularly
tender bit of grass caught her eve, and
the old cracked bell beat time with the
rhythmic motion of her head. On she
went, deeper and deeper into the forest,
little Jennie following close after. She
paused once to watch little gray squir-
rel running nimbly up and down the
long limbs OF tree, and as he arched
his tail over his back and sat upon his
launches to crack an acorn, he looked
SO slyly out of his funny little eyes at
the quiet little figure standing by, that
she laughed aloud with delight. A
blackbird balancing itself on tall elder
bush. whistled blithely to her as she
passed, and farther on she stopped and
picked up tiny hop-toad that crossed
her path. The old COW was lost
to sight now, but the bell told her
that she was not far off, and Jennie
hastened on and soon came up to her
But she did not look so interesting as
she had at first, and Jennie thought
that she had better go home. But
which way should she turn! There was
no path, not even footprint to show
her which way she had come, and all
around and above her lowered the tall
trees, and the thick bushes shut her in
on every side. She was lost! What
should she do?
She sat down on log and thought
aboutit it. She dropped the little toad
by her side, and reaching far into the
depths of the big sunbonnet, she wiped
the tears out of her eyes with her dirty
little hand. What a forlorn little
maiden she was. away off in the woods
with no one to talk to, no one to take
care of her! What could she doP Why,
follow the COW, of course. She always
found her way home somehow, and she
was the only living thing near that she
knew; and although she was not very
sociable, she had sort of friendly way
of switching her tail, and even if she
did look inquiringly at the big pink
sunbonnet. she never questioned its
right to be there. She moved calmly
along, cropping the leaves and grass as
she went. with apparent disregard of
the little figure that followed her so
wearily. She turned into swamp
where the wet, spongy ground gave
way to her feet with sucking sound.
Jennie knew no way but to go, too, and
the little shoes were soon soaked and
the dress soiled and torn; the sunbon-
net hung hopelessly around her neck
by the strings. but she always kept the
cow in sight. although her little limbs
ached and her lips would quiver some
times.
She thought of the Indian children
playing in the meadow; of the boys
and girls in the schoolroom learning
their lessons, and of her gentle mother
moving about among them. She
wondered if tomorrow had come, she
had been away SO long. But the sun
had been shining all the time, so that
could not be, and she suppressed sob
as she thought of the dark night in
those lonely woods.
But what Is that sound so far away
that she can scarcely hear it? If she
did not see Brindle near and hear her
bell as she tosses her head, she would
think that she was lost to even the old
cow, for it surely is bell ringing
through the woods. She listens, and
as it becomes palmer she feels sure that
she has heard it before. Nearer it
comes, and to her joy she recognizes
the dear old dinner-bell, and then she
thinks, for the first time, how hungry
she really is. Perhaps it is evening,
and Brindle has found her way home
as usual, and she hears the bell ringing
for supper! But the COW seems in no
hurry as she leisurely brushes of the
flies with her long tail. Jennie stands
still to listen, and the bell continues to
ring, sounding louder every moment.
And then she remembers how, last
winter, when some of the men were lost
in the deep snow, the rest had gone out
to hunt them and rung the big bell to
gulue them nome; ana Sne KNOWS tney
must be looking for her.
"Papa, here amr' she cries, in her
thin little voice, and echo answers,
Here am"
Nearer they come, and she takes off
the big sunbonnet and lets the breeze
toss back the tangled curls from her
not forehead, as she almost holds her
breath to listen. When her father, fol-
lowed by several tall Indians, who all
love the little pale-faced girl, makes his
way through the bushes. this is what he
sees: A little girl, with tangled curls
and tear-stained cheeks, standing up to
her waist in the tall ferns. In one
hand she holds the string of the big
sunbonnet, which lies on the ground at
her side, and the other clasps tightly
the ugly little toad, which she had
picked up again as friend, not to be
parted from out in those lonely woods
where friends were so scarce. But
now, as she sees their tall forms press
ing through the trees. she stretches out